The Art of Surviving
by PoppyPotter
Summary: A one shot on the life of Peter Pettigrew and his many betrayals; it was all to survive, to live...


**The Art of Surviving.**

_The first time he realised it he was sitting in the back of the library head slumped on the table, the candle beside him extinguished. It was past midnight and the eerie silence of the library seemed to clear his thoughts leading him to one unexpected and rather unpleasant conclusion; the Marauders for all that they were, for all the times they had said they were brothers were in fact, not indestructible. _

_It was a bitter truth but sitting in the darkened library surrounded by thousands of books Peter Pettigrew was resigned to believe it. They were not indestructible; not bound so closely that nothing could tear them apart as he had previously and perhaps naively, believed. _

_The last forty eight hours had taught him that, if anything. _

_His stomach churned as the memories rushed forth once again; in all honesty he did not whether to be grateful for Sirius's mistake awakening him to the reality or to be angry that their friendship was falling apart because of it. _

_Sirius was trying desperately to talk to James and Remus, neither of whom wanted to talk to him. James was trying to talk to Remus who was refusing to talk to him or anyone for that matter and he Peter was ignored, pushed to the side as the most important thing to him was destroyed._

_Why did no one feel the need to tell him what was going on? Did they not consider him their friend?_

_Sirius only came looking for James, James glared at everyone who came near him and Remus locked himself in the dorm and the Hogwarts student population seemed determined to question him on what had happened, only the problem was he didn't know what had happened. Well he did obviously, but he didn't know the details, didn't know what Dumbledore had said or what had happened to James or Snape and he didn't know what their cover story was and so annoyed, hurt and tired he had sought refuge in the dark library away from curious glances and prying questions._

_His plan of escape had worked for the most part; no one was here to trouble him but alone with his thoughts Peter Pettigrew came to a conclusion that made his body squirm in discomfort and his heart thump in fear; what would happen to him if the Marauders broke down which he was sure now, would be inevitable?_

_The night the fifteen year old Peter Pettigrew came to this question was perhaps the night that changed everything, although some could and would argue that things had changed two nights before. The Marauders you see, were four boys who were inexplicably close and one day one of those boys (in a fit of anger and hurt) made a very big mistake and for a time after, it seemed his actions were beyond forgiveness but then somehow they to their own disbelief, pulled through but things were by now irrevocably changed. For one Peter Pettigrew, though he did not consciously recognise it, had lost the unwavering faith in his friends and that one fact changed everything. _

**oOo**

Peter Pettigrew did not think of that night at the library for years; the Marauders were once again friends and though the dynamics of their friendship seemed infinitely changed Peter did not allow himself to ponder over his loss of faith or the thoughts that had plagued him that night- they were friends again, that was all that mattered.

And it really did seem like it was all that mattered; friendship, laughter, pranks that was what they lived for but then they left Hogwarts and now the war mattered, and fighting mattered and making a difference mattered.

Surviving mattered.

_**Surviving. **_

He supposed that's what it all came down to; whatever he did had been done to survive.

_To live._

He hadn't meant to betray them, he really hadn't, he certainly hadn't _planned_ it.

You see in the war Peter Pettigrew was reminded of that night in the library. The Marauders may not have suffered another gruelling fight but things were changing, priorities were changing; where once the Marauders were the most important thing in each of the boys' lives the war and _growing up_ had gifted them each with something more important.

For James it was Lily and the baby Harry, for Sirius it was trying to show he was different than the Blacks, fighting his inner demons and of course protecting the Potters, Remus was trying to learn to live in a world determined to shun him, doing missions for Dumbledore only he could.

And he Peter was once again pushed ever so slightly on to the outside. And being on that outside made him shiver because he knew without having to think about it, that if they were fighting the death eaters, if it was a matter of life and death he would not be the first they ran to. It wasn't hard to notice, he watched them you see while they were fighting, wands brandishing, curses flying, he watched and he saw how Sirius and James fought back to back, he saw how James ran to Lily at any sign she was in danger, how she did the same for him, he saw how Remus was so good at Defence he didn't need them but he, Peter, he was the weakest- he knew that- and he also knew he would also always be the last one thought of.

Perhaps that fear or perhaps the realisation that James had a family and Sirius and Remus other concerns was what made it so easy. What meant that when he awoke after being cursed and gagged and found himself in a dark, candle lit room surrounded by the Dark lord and some of his closest death eaters it only took two _Crucios_, a handful of screams and one whimper before he leaked a secret. The Dark Lord had smiled, a sight that made him quiver in fright and disgust but…. he had also let him go, let him _live._

_(That small secret led Marlene McKinnon to St. Mungos for a month)_

The next time they got him he had planned to give a fight but the shadows made from the dimly lit candles and the ominous masks on the faces of the death eaters surrounding him made him speak- _he had no choice._

_(That secret was slightly larger and led to the deaths of the children in a muggle orphanage the Order had been protecting)_

The next time, Bellatrix Lestrange crucio-ed him before they let him speak. His eyes blurred with the tears forming from the pain but he forced himself speak, to buy his life; _it was the only thing he could do._

(_That secret was a rather large one and led to the gruesome death of Benjy Fenwick)_

There were more of course, endless lists of secrets he spilled, big and small that each slowly put obstacle after obstacle in the path of the Order but… _it wasn't his fault_, it really wasn't; he did after all have no choice in the matter, though of course he was resigned to admit to himself that had it been James or Sirius or Remus they would have accepted the pain or death over a path to betrayal. But he wasn't James or Sirius or Remus, he was Peter and he was just trying to survive.

That didn't mean he didn't feel guilty because he did (he wasn't heartless after all). The guilt kept him a constant state of jittery fear; he could not sit still and would yelp and jump up at the slightest unexpected noise. His friends blamed it on the war and gave him comforting smiles but he did not want their pity; how many of them, he thought, could have survived so many encounters with the Dark Lord- they may have been brave and noble and proud but he knew had they been in his place they would have been dead by now, others would feel amazed at this fact, in awe of their selflessness but to Peter that trait began to morph into stupidity- they were fools, he decided, to choose death over survival.

**oOo**

His meetings with the Dark Lord, if that's what they could be called, were always in the same circular room, illuminated by candles that caused shadows to dance on the floor. He was cursed a lot in that room, threw up from the pain of the Cruciatus curse but he also listened to the words of the Dark Lord, listened to him tell him how weak the Order were, how small in number they were, how _unprotected _they were and then he listened to him speak of his friends, listened to how uninterested they were in him. _"Remember"_ he would say; _"remember the way they left you behind so many times Peter, remember their taunts Peter, their pity." _

And he would remember, he would remember James and Sirius going off to cause more havoc, he would remember Sirius's condescending eye rolls and taunts, James sniggers, Remus's unhelping hand and he would inevitably spill another secret.

And then one day, a Wednesday if he remembered correctly, the Dark Lord told him about the war, told him it wasn't _his _war anyway, he was pureblood, he could be safe, he could be protected and by more than just a handful of people too scared to use unforgivables.

_He could survive this war._

And so when the invitation to join the ranks of the Dark Lord came he accepted because he would _survive_ and after all, he couldn't always follow the Marauders.

There were many more after that; he told them where Dorcas Meadows was planning on going (they killed her), he told them who the Order was planning on recruiting (those people were tortured, or killed if deemed necessary), he told them what protective spells the Order used (they broke them).

The guilt weakened with time, he would cry at the deaths of members of the Order and perhaps those tears were tears of guilt but he had learned to live and accept his actions. He was surviving, living in this war which wasn't even his to fight. And then there was the reassuring fact that _he_ hadn't tortured, _he_ hadn't killed anyone, he had just given the Dark Lord some clues.

His soul was whole.

But he knew Remus and Sirius and James and none of the Order would understand that. They wouldn't understand that he had _no damn choice_; they would be angry and disbelieving. Remus would try to find the logical explanation; an imperious or something of the like, Sirius who was rash and valued loyalty above all else would kill him but James…James would understand, he would forgive him…_right?_

But would James forgive him? James Potter who was noble and brave and always fought for the truth, who wanted to fight until his death would he forgive a friend for going against everything he believed in?

He had forgiven Sirius after all, so maybe there was hope. Nevertheless, he idea that his friends would ever find out about his deeds made Peter Pettigrew fearful and so he planned, with perfect deliberation, how to steer any blame away from himself.

He would whisper in the ear of Sirius Black, making innocent observations and leaking secrets that he knew Remus Lupin was in on before going to Remus and casually bringing up old mistakes and fights and telling tall tales about Sirius until Sirius Black suspected an innocent Remus Lupin and Remus Lupin began to evade the company of Sirius Black.

It was clever his plan, cleverer than anyone would think of Peter Pettigrew.

**oOo**

It was like a fire. Once something catches it spreads destroying everything in its path and leaving only broken and burnt remains.

It started with Peter spilling a small secret that led Marlene McKinnon to the hospital, it ended with the death of his best friend, the destruction of the Sirius Black and the end of a war.

Peter Pettigrew would never fully blame himself for the events that happened in 1981, he would feel the pain, he would feel the guilt but only marginally and any time they threatened to make him question himself he pushed them to the back of his mind; he didn't point the wand, didn't say the words, _he didn't kill them. He didn't!_

In the beginning it had been fear of pain that had led to the betrayal of secrets, then it became self-justified (this wasn't his war, anyway) but in time Peter Pettigrew grew to yearn to please the Dark Lord. He feared the man, if he could be called a man, but with the fear there was an awe at his power and a yearning for approval and perhaps, if he was lucky, a piece of the power and so when Peter Pettigrew learned that the Dark Lord wanted to find James Potter and then when Sirius Black, kindly made him secret keeper he ran to the Dark Lord without a second thought.

It was only later one night in his small room in his mother's house that doubt began to creep in; _James Potter was going to die._ The thought made him sick; his friend, his _brother _was going to die. His first friend at Hogwarts, the one that had stuck for him so many times, who had made him laugh until tears rolled down his face was going to die.

He was powerful he knew, had been the best in their year but he was not as powerful as the Dark Lord and yes, maybe his son was the target but Peter knew James would not survive the encounter.

He shuddered at that thought before apparating away and finding himself in the same cold, circular room. He waited for the Dark Lord and then pleaded and begged and fell to his knees asking for the life of the one person who had stuck with him in his youth but the Dark Lord had shook his head in disgust, his lip curled in a sneer…. The Crucio that ripped through his body was enough to make him give up.

When he went home that night he sat by his desk, a pile of old photos in front of him. He looked at each one by candlelight, reminiscing the days when things were easy and happy and he had had faith to do the right thing; when he looked up to James Potter and strived to be like him, to be noble and good.

But he was not James Potter and that was reason enough for him to pack each photo away, carefully and neatly before getting ready for his plan; he may have been succumbing to guilt but he had no intention of waiting for a blood thirsty Sirius Black.

It had all, he thought, worked out rather well; Sirius's suspicions of Remus, courtesy of Peter, meant he hadn't told even him that they had changed secret keeper and Remus was at that moment in time not the most trusting of Sirius either.

Yes, it had all worked out well.

**oOo**

James and Lily Potter died on Halloween, 1981 as Peter Pettigrew, a person they trusted and cared for ran into the night intent on ruining another friends life. The next day he succeeded, the curse he had learnt through observation of his master, killed thirteen muggles. Sirius Black laughing in grief and pain, anger and disbelief was dragged to Azkaban labelled a madman whilst Peter Pettigrew, now a rat scurried away, eyes peeled for food and a new home.

He did not mourn the Dark Lord or indeed think of his friends, nor did he worry too much about those who would probably kill him given the chance; the war was declared over, he had the perfect disguise and most importantly, _**he was alive.**_

* * *

**A/N: Hi! Hope you liked this, it was written for the second round in thegoodgirldoll's a character a week competition- the prompt was candlelight and it had to be a Marauder era character. I hate Peter (who doesn't?) but I enjoyed writing this and trying to see what was going through his mind, though of course nothing justifies what he did.**

**Please review :D**


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